On Tipping Points & Family Fit
by ArcadiaArden
Summary: So, she wasn't crazy. Naked, but not crazy. Rizzles. Mature readers only please.


Rizzoli & Isles – I certainly don't own them. I give a lot of credit to the people that do and thank them for letting me mess about with them for a bit. The story and any original characters that might crop up belong to my addled little brain.

Warmest thanks and a large cup of coffee for siDEADde. Not every beta will stay up on a Friday night to edit your PWP and then come back the next day and do it all over again.

Dedicated to that dress... you know the one...

Following the Rizzoli Family dinner in 4x14: Just Push Play: "The team investigates an aspiring gifted singer-songwriter's death at a bar. Meanwhile, after being away for a year, Frank Rizzoli (Chazz Palminteri) returns to announce he has prostate cancer. Although concerned for his health, his family has difficulty putting his past mistreatment behind them."

**Added disclaimer: Mature readers only please…**

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As the pounding of her heart slowed down Jane was finally able to suck enough air in to constitute what she considered breathing. She darted her tongue along her lower lip and licked at the taste of iron on the surface. Yep, she totally had bit her lip.

She flexed her fingers against a smooth flat surface. She patted it. Hard. She was definitely on the floor. So no, the flashes in her mind making her thighs twitch were not hallucinations.

Tentatively Jane cracked an eye open and found herself looking at the final straw in all its crumpled, navy glory.

That god damn dress.

Jane shivered, stomach tightening as she became instantly aware of the sticky warmth of her lower body. As she dragged her eyes down over her still heaving breasts, the tousled mass of hair covering her stomach confirmed everything.

So, she wasn't crazy. Naked, but not crazy.

While Jane watched the bare hand resting just under her ribs twitched. Then a thumb rubbed along the ridge of her rib and she bit the corner of her lip. Now she could have written off the prick of her nipples stiffening to the drying sweat. Blamed the goose bumps on the cool room air, but the immediate jolt of her clit hardening?

"Jesus Fucking Christ. That was…" She didn't get another word out because that finger, that talented, gifted finger that had been tracing her ribs was now pressing against her lips. Jane went to sit up but the hand moved from her lips to between her breasts and pressed down as the head on her stomach moved side to side.

Groaning slightly she gave in and reclined back. Someplace near her bellybutton lips pressed, warm and wet on her skin and her clit twitched again instantly. Just a few more inches and… Jane groaned imagining.

Those lips.

Maura's lips.

Jane shifted against the hard floor, the inside of her thigh rubbing along smooth, smooth curves still pushing them apart.

So smooth. So good.

She stared up at the ceiling. So so so good.

Even if she had no clue how in the hell it had happened.

Her jackass of a father choosing to storm out on his own to find a cab. Her mother with her boss. Her brothers. Roses and blue carnations and Maura left sitting at the table surrounded by plates, empty chairs and the type of mess only the Rizzoli family could leave behind.

Her fucking father acting like Maura didn't belong when she was the only one who actually chose to be part of their family.

Jane couldn't fix what had happened but she could do what she did best. Clean up a mess. By the second trip back from the sink Maura had reached out and grabbed her wrist. Jane had tugged at the hold on her arm. "Don't worry. I'm good."

Maura didn't let go.

"Please Maura." The tears slipped free before she could stop them. She was fucking exhausted. The last thing she could handle was Maura pitying her, so the minute the grip had released she spun around and walked quickly back to the sink.

She'd been filling the basin up with soap and hot water, trying to avoid dabbing at her nose with her wet wrist, trying to stop tears from starting again when she felt Maura's hand on her shoulder.

Her hand on her shoulder and Maura's warmth along her back. Right there. Always right fucking there.

When she went to slide away the hand on her shoulder clutched at her shirt.

It was too much.

And she'd spun around to break Maura's hold and somehow Maura was stumbling and, horrified, Jane had grabbed Maura's hip with one hand and her shoulder with the other, watching as soap bubbles went flying, smattering across Maura's chest, iridescent.

The apology had been there. The words were about to fall from her lips. But there were bubbles, slowly dissolving, tracking downward over that necklace and warmth from a hip that fit somehow against her palm. When Jane looked up she couldn't breathe.

Maura.

Not people.

Hazel eyes turned almost black as Jane watched. Her fingers twitched and somehow everything seemed closer, felt closer. She tried to catch her breath but the hip under her hand shifted, rotated, pressing into the curve of her palm and somehow she just knew how it would feel out of that dress. How the shifting of them together would feel and the thought bloomed hot, low and heavy.

It was thigh to thigh and stomach to stomach. Somebody gave in. Somebody leaned closer. The heat from where they touched spread white hot.

It would be so easy and Jane could feel herself start to quiver. There was breathing rough against her, bursting against her lips. If she could only press closer, a little closer, it would stop. Her hand opened along the curve of a hip, sliding lower and good, fucking, god that dress barely moved. Maura's perfume taunted her , her hands were burning holes through Jane's shirt and then her lips parted.

Maura.

Not people.

Her friend. Her family.

Hers.

Maura had only meant to force Jane to look at her. To make sure she understood that she didn't care about Frank Sr. She didn't care about anybody or anything other than Jane. But then Jane spun around and there was the shock of heat and need and angles that fit perfectly. Every intended word melted away.

Lips met hers. Hands staggered roughly over her.

One along her lower back, palm flat, pressing lower. Another up her neck and scratching into her hair.

Her own moving up and winding into dark curls to tug Jane's kiss deeper and deeper still, until Jane was groaning and they were moving together, delicious sparks making her breasts heavy and her thighs damp.

Jane's arm was around her tightly, cupping her ass to pull her in, meeting her demand to come closer, taste me, take me. Fingers dug into her flesh and it almost hurt but she wanted more.

Maura nipped firmly at a tender bottom lip. Driving Jane on. She was wet and she was wanting. Wanting the impatient fingers squeezing where butt met thigh and kneading through her dress. She could imagine them, long and sure pressing on either side of her clit, stroking and relentless. Imagined them pressing into her, that delicious feel of pressure sinking into her, stroking hard right where she needed it. Shuddering, Maura dragged her hands down over Jane's chest, tasting the slight hiss as her palms pressed down over ready breasts to claw Jane's shirt free.

Maura leaned back against Jane's hold long enough to pull both shirts over Jane's head and toss them over her shoulder. Heaving breasts were set free next before Maura claimed Jane's mouth, ran her hands up ribs, feeling desperate hands trying to find purchase on her skin through her dress. She clenched her thighs against the need for friction and cupped Jane roughly between her legs, pressing against the heat. "Unzip me."

Jane sagged into the touch, let the seam of her pants grind against her clit, warred with her own need to grab Maura's hand and press it tighter. Maura's hands were on her breasts, blunt nails against her nipples, fingertips squeezing and releasing. Making her so hard and wet that all she needed was a touch and she was going to come so fucking fast.

"Jane..." Maura's lips sucked under her ear. "…I need you..." Maura was rubbing her nipples between her fingers. "…in me."

Words were not supposed to make you come. Her stomach clenched, her clit pounded. Jane gritted her teeth, determined, but she couldn't stop from grinding down against Maura's hand. Her hands fumbled over Maura's dress trying to find a way in or under but the damn thing was painted on. "Fucking dress."

Maura's answering laugh was dark and breathless against her neck. "Its a very nice dress."

"It's in the fucking way." Jane fumbled with the metal tab but it didn't budge. She groaned in frustration when Maura pulled her hand away and whimpered when she felt the metal of her belt give way and her own zipper falling down. Knowing fingers slipped between cloth and skin so a fingertip could tease the tip her clit. She quivered, so close. "Maura…"

It was part warning, part desperation, and Maura pressed her lips to skin and sucked. She could feel that Jane was right there, trembling at the brink. Wet and slick. There was a groan, vibrating against her lips. All she'd have to do is circle down and around. Jane stiffened, fingers grasping at her wrist, pulling her hand away before spinning her around, against the counter, body weight pressing her back. A voice growling into her ear. "Not so fucking fast."

Moisture pooled between her thighs.

Suddenly Maura didn't care about the dress. Didn't care that Jane was pulling and tugging and that something had to give.

The zipper only made it part way before Jane was prying navy cloth apart and peeling it down. There was sound of thread giving way as her dress was tugged roughly down her arms and over her curves, taking her thong with it. Jane's breath was hot against her upper thigh, lips traveled wetly up her stomach. She fought the urge to push Jane's shoulders down, to push those lips where they would feel so good, so right.

The rough friction of Jane's teeth pressed against her rib cage and again through her bra against her, pinching her nipple. Fingers tugged and twisted the clasp at her back. She buried her fingers in dark, thick hair, trying to breathe until the clasp ripped free, not caring if her bra went the way of her dress as long as it was off.

Not caring as long as her breast was sucked into wet heat. Not caring about the counter pressing into her back or the way rough hands pulled at her hips.

Maura pushed blindly at Jane's pants "Off. I need to feel you." And then there was the sound of metal hitting the floor and smooth skin sliding against hers. Wet and slick, rubbing against her stomach. Jane's neck, the pulse pounding as she bit down, salt and rich and… "Jane."

Finally those long fingers trailing down between them, sliding through sweat, pressing against her skin. Pressing between her thighs. Pressing along her clit.

Inelegant. Without finesse.

And she was going to come. Hard.

Jane was running on want and need. On the sounds Maura was whimpering into her shoulder. On the wet slicking burn that built with each sliding touch and each return thrust. The faster she pressed the harder Maura leaned into her until there was a thigh up on her hip and her fingers pressed lower, slipping fingertips inside.

Wet, open, ready.

For her.

Hers.

In and deep, slick and… "Jesus." Why had nobody ever told her about that little gasp a woman makes right when you sink inside? Jane could barely take the sight of fluttering hazel eyes, unfocused. Hands on her shoulders, digging sharply, lips seeking hers, sloppy, undone. Hips thrusting against hers, tempo primal.

Why had nobody ever told her about that moment when arms would wrap around her and squeeze? That her name on ragged breath would be gasped over and over against her neck? How her arm would burn but the pain would be fucking worth it?

Because it was pure trust and power, intimacy and invasion.

Maura was vulnerable and raw, arching against her, vibrating against her, clutching her, weight falling forward. It was Maura giving her everything and still holding her desperately.

Jane could feel everything in the boneless way Maura melted in her arms, face tucked into her shoulder.

Arms trembling, she slowly pulled her fingers free and pulled Maura tightly to her, lowering them both slowly to the floor, forehead to forehead, breast to breast, breathing harsh and uneven.

Maura opened her eyes. Jane. Her hand fit so perfectly along the side of Jane's jaw, her thumb just able to trace a prominent cheekbone. A beautiful cheekbone.

Lips that fit against hers, along hers. Perfect for a long kiss. A languid kiss.

One that was repeated, deliberate, drawn out.

Breath that mingled as they pulled apart, the body under hers instinctively reaching up as she gradually ground down. Eyes that darkened, lids falling, lips parting, ready.

Her thighs still twinged and sensitive nipples ached with each glide of their bodies. Her thumbs traced over Jane's prominent collarbones. Maura reached down and carefully claimed waiting lips again.

Jane.

Her friend. Her family.

Maura pressed down between Jane's breasts, encouraging her back, seeing her suck air in quickly as her back hit the cool floor. Slim hips fit perfectly between her thighs, Jane's breathing escalating, chest heaving, nipples tight and waiting. Gorgeous.

Maura bit her lip at the shift of a warm abdomen against her sensitive clit, tempted to give in and grind down. She braced her weight on either side of Jane's head and paused, looking, falling into brown eyes with intent. This wasn't about her. Leaning forward, Maura parted Jane's thighs with her knee. Bit her lip when she felt her. Jane was wet, slick and ready. She pressed her thigh tightly upward. Dark eyes blinked and Jane's jaw clenched as white teeth gleamed against bottom lip.

So controlled.

But not for long.

Maura leaned forward and dark eyes closed on a guttural groan at the pressure. This wasn't going to take much.

One more kiss against the arch of a lip, one more slide of Jane's tongue against hers, echoing and promising what her wandering hand was headed for. Jane's clit was hard, prominent and she wasn't going to last.

Perfect.

One finger circling slowing around, teasing, not quite touching. Jane twitched, hips arching up. "Maura." It was a plea. A second finger, back and forth. A whimper of need. Hers? Jane's?

It didn't matter.

Not when there was the sound of her name falling desperately. Not when Jane was grinding against her, losing the last of her restraint. Not when Maura pushed in deep and sure and Jane started shaking on the second thrust.

Nothing mattered in the moment when Jane was coming hard, body wrapped around her, and nobody could come between them.

Jane.

Hers to treasure. Hers to protect.

Hers.

Trembling lips that were hers to find again, hers to control. Their kiss was ragged, sloppy, her fingers still buried deep inside. Jane's eyes trying to hold hers before drifting shut.

Breasts tipped with straining nipples hardened against her tongue. Deceptively soft skin over a muscled and firm abdomen, tasting of salt and the sweat of them together. Sucking, biting, here and there as she worked her way down, intent, not done.

Maura didn't know if she would ever be done.

Not with the way Jane moaned when her fingers started to move again. Not with the way the Jane's thighs trembled, her voice husky as Maura's tongue and lips found her clit and started to suck, relentless until hands were pulling at her hair. Certainly not with the way Jane's body arched up, undone, gripping her painfully close for precious seconds before suddenly releasing, slack.

It was still with the exception of their breathing.

Maura crawled partially up Jane's body and collapsed down on the heaving surface, pulse pounding in her ears. Slowly the whoosh of her pulse died down and her thoughts began to clear.

What the hell had just happened?

Above her Jane stirred slightly with a groan.

The sound made the pressure between her legs pound upward. Maura shivered, surprised, and pressed her thighs together as she rubbed soothingly along Jane's ribs and softly kissed the skin under her lips, inhaling.

They smelled like sex and something that was them and Maura realized she wanted to crawl up Jane's body and rub into it all over again.

Sex she understood.

This she didn't.

One moment she'd been sitting at her dining room table with Jane's wrist clutched in her hand and trying to stop the tears glazing over brown eyes. She'd been frozen. She didn't know what to say or do. It didn't matter that she had multiple degrees or years of friendship to fall back on. It didn't matter that normally words crowded her mind and spilled out of her mouth in a random torrent.

All that had mattered was the moment Jane needed her to use the right words she failed. She'd sat there, staring up at Jane and couldn't think of a single thing worth uttering. Defeated she'd let Jane go.

But she couldn't take the sight of Jane crying at her sink. Jane needed her.

She had walked up, close so Jane would know she was there even if words failed her, and touched her shoulder.

And here they were.

On her floor.

With clothes and dirty dishes around them. A perfectly good couch feet away and bedrooms upstairs.

She felt Jane stir above her.

That voice she loved so much, rough around the edges. "Jesus Fucking Christ. That was…" Maura reached up and covered Jane's lips. She still needed to think.

Muscles under her cheek contracted as Jane started start to sit up and Maura pushed her back down, smiling at the groan and the immediate acquiescence.

Covered by her own hair Maura dropped another open mouthed kiss against the soft, salty surface, smiling as Jane's bellybutton twitched. She stroked the skin under her fingertips, just along the underside of a breast, hearing the sharp intake of air above her head.

Finally she pushed up on her arms and hovered, staring down into Jane's eyes. Perhaps for once, thinking was not what she needed to do. The eyes looking back were clear and steady.

Jane watched Maura studying her, with bedroom eyes that she loved and that soft affection she needed to survive. "We're on your floor. Naked and on your kitchen floor."

Maura seemed to consider her words and with a quirk of her lips stood up. "I would agree with that assessment, yes."

Rolling into a sitting position Jane watched Maura gather their clothing, the blue dress tossed casually over a shoulder. "It's all that dress' fault."

Maura walked up to Jane and dropped her clothing into her lap. "It's an extraordinary design and cut but it's still only a dress. I'm not sure you can assign blame to an inanimate object. "

"Oh no, I'm blaming the dress. Fucking cocktease of a dress and you know it." Jane looked up quickly before balling her clothes into a mass and squeezing it close. "You know everything."

Maura was surprised. That body language was uncertainty. "Jane. I don't know everything." Troubled eyes looked up and softened. She leaned down and offered her hand to haul Jane to her feet. "I'd also like to point out that this dress covered my arms and the hem went down to my knees. It's very conservative in color too."

Rolling her eyes Jane snorted. "Bullshit. All day long that necklace was like an advertisement to stare down your cleavage. That dress was practically painted on. Every guy in the area had a stiffy from it."

Maura gave her a wry smile. "I'll have to remember that next time I wear it." She closed the space between them. "Frankly if this dress helped me end up naked on my kitchen floor tonight then I love this dress."

Jane could feel the heat off Maura's body. She swayed closer. "Oh, I love your dress too."

Toe to toe Maura had to reach up and cup Jane's face to draw her down so she could kiss her softly. "Good. It's late. I'm going hang up my dress and then go to bed." Another kiss, longer. deeper. "Are you coming?"

Breathing heavily, Jane tried to reconcile the fact that Maura's naked backside was sauntering away. "Wait. What?"

Maura smiled to herself but refused to look back. The indignant whine carried across the room.

"Maura, really? Nobody is coming if you walk away." No response. Jane tried again. "You're seriously going to sleep right now?"

Partway across her living room Maura turned around, light playing over curves and valleys. She waited until Jane finally tore her eyes off her body and met her eyes. "I believe I said I was going to bed."

She spun around with a last look back, the navy dress still draped casually over her shoulder. "I don't believe I said say anything about sleeping."

Jane's hand was on her lower back before she hit the first step.

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A/N: Written because I wasn't quick enough with finger to my nose (which one is up to your imagination) on a Tuesgay.

So…. Here's one deeply developed, intricate storyline/plot:)

If I didn't make you flush at least once (or at least nod in approval) I have failed in my mission. Hopefully if I succeed you'll let me know.


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